Naval battles of the world

by Edward Shippen

MERRIMAC AND MONITOR. MARCH 9TH, 1862.

The United States Navy Department had been informed that the Confederate authorities had raised the hull of the fine frigate Merrimac, which had been burned at the Navy Yard at Norfolk, at the breaking out of the civil war, and had erected a huge iron casemate upon her.

With her engines in good working order, it was confidently expected by the Confederates that this novel and formidable craft would be able to capture or destroy the Union fleet, in Hampton Roads, raise the blockade at the Capes of Virginia, and proceed to Washington, when the Capitol would be at the mercy of her powerful battery. This battery consisted of ten heavy rifled guns.

In those days nothing was known about ironclads, and as week after week passed, and the monster, so often spoken of by the Norfolk papers, which was to clear out Hampton Roads, and to brush away the “insolent frigates” which were blockading the James River at Newport News did not appear, people began to regard her as a bugbear. At any rate, the Union frigates were very sure that, if they could once get her under their broadsides, they would soon send her to the bottom.

About the 1st of March, 1862, a Norfolk newspaper contained a violent attack upon the Confederate authorities for their bad management in regard to the Merrimac, or “Virginia,” as they had re-christened her. The paper declared that her plating was a failure, that her machinery was defective, and that she very nearly sank when brought out of dock. This was all a ruse, for she was then making trials of machinery, and had her officers and crew on board and under drill.

The Navy Department was better informed than those in the immediate vicinity, and hurried up the means it had created to meet the ironclad.

In Hampton Roads, at that time, were the Minnesota, a fine steam-frigate, the Roanoke, of the same size, but crippled in machinery, and several other vessels of much less power, together with numerous transports, coal-ships, and others.

A few miles above, at Newport News, lay the Congress, a sailing frigate of 50 guns, and the Cumberland, a heavy sloop of 24 guns. These were the “insolent frigates” which, during many preceding months, had entirely prevented the Confederates from using the water communication between Richmond and Norfolk. The danger in leaving these vessels, without steam, in such a position, was fully recognized, and they were to be replaced by others about the middle of March.

On shore, at Newport News, was a camp of about four thousand men; and the Congress and Cumberland lay just off this camp, in the fair way of the channel, and about a quarter of a mile apart; the Cumberland being the furthest up the James river.

On Saturday, the 8th of March, the Merrimac at last appeared, accompanied by two or three tugs armed with rifled guns, and joined, eventually, by two armed merchant steamers from up the James. The Merrimac moved with great deliberation, and was seen from the vessels at Newport News, coming down the channel from Norfolk, towards Sewell’s point, at about half-past twelve. She could not then be seen from Hampton Roads, but when she did at last show herself clear of the point, there was great commotion there. But she turned up, at a right angle, and came up the channel toward Newport News. It is said by some that she came by a channel not generally known, or, at least, not commonly used.

The tide had just turned ebb, and the time selected was the best for the iron-clad, and the worst for the vessels at Newport News, for their sterns were down stream, and they could not be sprung round.

The Merrimac approached these ships with ominous silence and deliberation. The officers were gathered on the poops of the vessels, hazarding all sorts of conjectures in regard to the strange craft, and, when it was plain she was coming to attack them, or to force the passage, the drum beat to quarters. By about two o’clock the strange monster was close enough to make out her ports and plating, and the Congress fired at her from a stern gun. The projectile, a 32-pound shot, bounced off the casemate as a pebble would.

The ironclad threw open her forward ports, and answered with grape, killing and wounding quite a number on board the Congress. Then she steamed up past that frigate, at a distance of less than two hundred yards, receiving a broadside, and giving one in return. The shot of the Congress had no effect upon the Merrimac; but the broadside of the latter, upon the wooden frigate, had created great destruction. One of her shells dismounted an 8-inch gun, and either killed or wounded every one of the gun’s crew. The slaughter at other guns was fearful. There were comparatively few wounded, the shells killing, as a general rule.

After this broadside the Merrimac passed up the stream, and the Congress’ men, supposing she had had enough of it, began to cheer; and for many of them it was the last cheer they were ever to give. The iron-clad went up stream far enough to turn at right angles, and ran into the Cumberland with her ram. The Cumberland began to fill, at once, and in a few minutes sank, her flag flying, and having kept up her fire as long as her gun-deck was above water. Her mizzen-top remained out of water, but it was deeper under her forward part, and her fore and main top went under. A small freight boat, of the quartermaster’s department, and some tugs and row-boats put off from the wharf at the camp, to save the lives of her crew. These were fired at by the Rebel gun-boats, and the boiler of the freight boat was pierced, and the wharf itself damaged, but the greater part of those in the water were saved.

The Cumberland lost one hundred and seventeen out of three hundred on board. Buchanan, the Captain of the Merrimac, hailed Morris, the First Lieutenant of the Cumberland, and temporarily in command, saying, “Do you surrender?” “No, Sir!” shouted back Morris, whose ship was then sinking. The last gun was fired by acting Master Randall, now in the navy, but retired. The ship heeled suddenly as she sank, and the ladders were either thrown down, or became almost perpendicular, so as to render it difficult to get on deck. The Chaplain was drowned, on this account. One of the gunners’ mates got up safely, however, all the way from the magazine, and swam to the mizzen-top. The marine drummer boy was pushed and hoisted up by some of the men, holding fast to his drum, which he saved, and creating laughter, even at that terrible moment, by the way in which he clung to it.

ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN THE MONITOR AND MERRIMAC, IN HAMPTON ROADS.

When the survivors of the Cumberland reached the shore they were enthusiastically received by the soldiers, and flasks of whisky, plugs of tobacco, and other soldiers’ and sailors’ luxuries, forced upon them. Captain Radford, of the Cumberland, now Admiral Radford, was at Hampton Roads, sitting on a court-martial, when the Merrimac ran out. He went on shore, got a horse, and rode madly, in hopes of reaching Newport News in time; but he only got there to see his pendant waving from the truck, and sweeping the water which had swallowed up so many of his fine crew.

In ramming the Cumberland the Merrimac had twisted her prow or beak, but the leak it occasioned was not noticed at once. She then turned down stream, to renew her attack upon the Congress. The latter ship had been set on fire by the shell of the first broadside, and one of the seats of fire was aft, near the after magazine; this was never extinguished, and was the eventual cause of her destruction.

Seeing the fate of the Cumberland, which sank in deep water, the Congress slipped her chains, set the top-sails and jib, and with the help of the tug Zouave, ran on the flat which makes off from Newport News point. Here she heeled over, as the tide continued to fall, leaving only two 32-pounders which could be fought, and these were in the stern ports, on the gun-deck.

The Minnesota and one or two other vessels had started up to the relief of the Congress and Cumberland, but they got on shore before they had achieved half the distance. It turned out to be well, for they would otherwise probably have shared the fate of the Cumberland, in which case the lives of their crews would have been uselessly jeopardized.

It was about half-past two when the Merrimac came to attack the Congress once more. She took up a position about one hundred and fifty yards astern of her, and deliberately raked her with rifled shells, while the small steamers all concentrated their guns upon the same devoted ship. A great many were now killed on board the Congress, including two officers. The ship kept up a fire from her two stern guns, having the crews swept away from them repeatedly. At last they were both dismounted. Nearly all the men in the powder division, below, were killed by this raking fire. This division was in charge of Paymaster Buchanan, who was a brother of the Captain of the Merrimac. Those now fared best whose duty kept them on the spar-deck. Even the wounded in the cockpit were killed, and the shells were momentarily setting fire to new places, rendering it necessary to drench the quarters of the wounded with ice-cold water. The commanding officer, Lieutenant Joseph B. Smith, was killed by a shell at this time.

The Congress had now borne this fire for nearly an hour, and had no prospect of assistance from any quarter, and was unable to fire a shot in return.

Under these circumstances there was nothing to do but to haul down the flag. A small gun-boat came alongside, the commanding officer of which said he had orders to take the people out, and burn the vessel. But before many could get on board the steamer she was driven off by the sharp-shooters of a regiment on shore. They now all opened on the Congress again, although she had a white flag flying, and could not be responsible for the actions of the soldiers on shore. After about fifteen minutes more, however, they all went down to attack the Minnesota, which ship was hard and fast aground. Fortunately they could not approach very near her, on account of the state of the tide, and night now drawing on, the whole flotilla withdrew, and proceeded up the Norfolk channel.

It was now necessary for the survivors of the Congress to get on shore as soon as possible, and this was done, by about dark, by means of the two boats which had the fewest shot-holes in them. These made repeated trips, taking the wounded first, and the officers last, and the wearied and exhausted people were hospitably received in the camp.

The poor old ship, deserted by all but the dead, who were left lying just as they fell, burned till about midnight, when she blew up, with a report that was heard for many miles.

The next morning was fine, but hazy, but it soon became clear, as if to afford an uninterrupted view of the first ironclad fight.

The camp was early astir; the regiments drawn up in line of battle, while the survivors of the two ships’ companies manned the howitzers and field pieces in the earthworks to the west of the camp. For it was certain the Merrimac would return that morning, to complete her work, while information had been received that General Magruder, with a large force, was marching over from Yorktown, to take the camp in the rear, and thus, in conjunction with the ironclad, force a surrender.

About six o’clock the Merrimac was seen, through the haze, coming down again, apparently intending to attack the Minnesota, which ship was still aground. Her proceedings were watched with breathless interest by thousands, on all sides of the broad sheet of water, which formed an amphitheatre, so to speak, on the southern side of which the spectators were filled with hope and confidence, while to the north well-grounded apprehension was felt. Passing up the James River channel again, the Merrimac opened fire upon the Minnesota with her bow guns, hulling her once or twice, when, suddenly, there darted out from under the shadows of the huge frigate a little raft-like vessel, almost flush with the water, and bearing on her deck a round, black turret.

At first no one in the camp seemed to know what it was, or how it came there, but at last it was conceded that it must be the strange, new ironclad, which was said to be building in New York, by Ericsson.

It was indeed the “Monitor,” and although too late to prevent a terrible loss, she was in the nick of time to prevent much more serious disaster.

And now for a few words about this remarkable vessel, whose exploits were the cause of a revolution in the building of ships-of-war, throughout the world.

And first, as to her name. Ericsson proposed to call her Monitor, because she would prove a warning to the leaders of the Southern rebellion, as well as to the authorities of other countries who should be inclined to break our blockade, or otherwise interfere in our affairs.

Captain Ericsson was a native of Sweden, and in his youth had served in both the army and navy of that country. Thence he went to England, to pursue his profession as an engineer, and came out to America, to superintend the construction of the United States screw steamer Princeton, in 1839. Here he remained, dying in 1895, far advanced in years. In 1854 he planned a shot-proof iron-plated vessel, the drawings for which he forwarded to Louis Napoleon, saying, among other things, that his invention would place an entire fleet of wooden vessels at its mercy, in calms and light winds. Louis Napoleon politely declined to accept his proposition to build such a vessel for the French Navy.

When it became evident that a long and arduous struggle was before us, at the opening of the Civil War, certain gentlemen entered into a contract to build such a vessel for our Government, on Ericsson’s plans, and under his superintendence. The ironclad was contracted for in October, 1861, to be ready in the shortest possible space of time. The contract price paid for her hull was seven and a half cents a pound, and Ericsson and his backers were to forfeit payment for the whole, unless she was found to work in a satisfactory manner.

His plans were only partly drawn, and it is said that he frequently made his drawings, to overcome difficulties, the same day they were to be worked from.

The hull was built by Rowland, at Green Point, Long Island; the turret at the Novelty Works, New York; the machinery and mechanism of the turret at Delamater’s, in New York; while the massive port-stoppers, which swung down by machinery, as the guns fired and the turret revolved, were forged in Buffalo.

Wonderful to relate, this entirely novel structure was finished in one hundred days from the time the plates for her keel were laid. She was launched on the 30th of January, 1862, having large wooden tanks under her stern, to prevent her from running under water, as she went off the ways.

She was delivered to the naval authorities, at the New York Navy-yard, on the 19th of February, following. After two trial trips it was found to be necessary to hurry this novel and almost untried piece of complicated machinery down to Hampton Roads, to meet the formidable ironclad whose doings we have just been relating.

The officers and crew were in circumstances entirely new to them. “Calmly and terribly heroic,” says Dorr, “was the act of manning this coffin-like ship,” in which the crew was, as it were, hermetically sealed.

Lieutenant John L. Worden, of the Navy, having been ordered to the command, proceeded to select a crew from the receiving ships North Carolina and Sabine. He stated fairly to the men the difficulties and dangers which they might expect to encounter, and yet many more volunteered to go than were required. The officers were ordered in the usual way, except the First Lieutenant, S. D. Greene, who was a volunteer. Chief Engineer Stimers, of the navy, who had been employed as an inspector of some of the work, and who was interested in the performance of the vessel, went down in her as a passenger, and took part, as a volunteer, in her first action.

The Monitor’s orders to Hampton Roads were issued on the 20th of February, but necessary work detained her; and on March 4th Admiral Paulding, the Commandant at New York, directed Worden to proceed the moment the weather would permit; and informed him that a tug would be sent to tow him, and two small steamers would attend.

On the afternoon of March 6th the Monitor left Sandy Hook, with a moderate westerly wind, and a smooth sea. The “Seth Low” was hired to tug her, and the Currituck and Sachem formed the escort. At midday of the 7th she was off the Capes of the Delaware, with a strong breeze and a rough sea. Water came freely in at the hawse-pipes, around the base of the turret, and in other places. At 4 P. M., the wind still increasing, the water broke over the smoke and blower pipes, which were six and four feet high, respectively. This wet the blower bands, which slipped and broke. A failure in the machinery to supply air must soon be fatal, in such a craft, to all on board. The blowers being stopped there was no draft for the furnaces, and the fire and engine rooms soon filled with gas.

The engineer in charge, Isaac Newton, U. S. N., met the emergency promptly, but his department was soon prostrated by inhaling the gas, and they had to be taken up into the turret, to be revived.

The water was coming in rapidly, and the hand-pumps could not discharge it fast enough. Matters looked very gloomy, and the tug was hailed, and directed to head for the land. This she did at once, but made slow progress against wind and sea; but by evening she had got the Monitor into much smoother water; repairs were made, the gas had escaped, and at 8 o’clock she was on her course again. At midnight fears of disaster were again aroused by very rough water, in passing over the Chincoteague Shoals; and, to add to their troubles, the wheel-ropes jammed, and the vessel yawed so that the towing hawser was in danger of parting.

These difficulties were in turn overcome by the stout hearts and skillful hands on board; and at four in the afternoon of the 8th of March she passed Cape Henry. Heavy firing was now heard to the westward, which Worden at once conjectured to be the Merrimac fighting the vessels in the Roads. He at once prepared the Monitor for action, and keyed up the turret. A pilot boat which came out to meet them soon put them in possession of the news, and of the damage done to the ships at Newport News, as well as the position of the Minnesota. Reporting to the senior officer in Hampton Roads, Worden’s first care was to find a pilot for that place. None being found, acting Master Howard, who had a knowledge of the locality, volunteered to act as pilot.

The Monitor then went up, and anchored near the Minnesota, at one o’clock on Sunday morning. Worden went to see Captain Van Brunt, and informed himself, as well as he could, of the state of affairs, and then returned to the Monitor, after assuring the Captain that he would develop all the qualities of that vessel, both for offence and defence.

We now return to the moment when the Merrimac came down again, and the Monitor went out to meet her, Worden’s object being to draw her away from the Minnesota. The contrast between the opposing ironclads was most striking, the Monitor seeming a veritable pigmy by the side of the Merrimac. The two vessels met on parallel courses, with their bows looking in opposite directions. They then exchanged fire. Worden and the engineers had been very anxious about the effect of heavy shot striking the turret, and causing it to jam. The heavy shot of the Merrimac, did strike the turret, and, to their great relief, it continued to revolve without difficulty. Thus one great source of anxiety was removed. Moreover, it was plainly to be seen that the 11-inch solid shot of the Monitor made a very considerable impression upon the Merrimac’s plating. The Monitor, though slow, steered well, and was much more agile than her long and heavy opponent, and she now ran across the Merrimac’s stem, close to her, in the hopes of damaging her propeller or rudder, but in this she did not succeed.

After passing up on her port side, she crossed the Merrimac’s bow, to get between her and the Minnesota again. The Merrimac put on steam, and made for the Monitor, to ram her. Finding that she would strike her, Worden put his helm hard-a-port, and gave his vessel a sheer, so that the blow glanced off from the quarter. The Monitor was now obliged to haul off for a few minutes, to do some repair or other, and the Merrimac turned her attention to the Minnesota, hulling her, and exploding the boiler of a steam-tug lying alongside of her. The Minnesota’s battery was brought to bear, and her 8-inch shot must have hit the Merrimac more than fifty times, but glanced from her sloping roof without inflicting damage.

The gallant little Monitor now came up again, and interposed between the two. Her shot soon caused the Merrimac to shift her position, and in doing so she grounded for a few minutes, but was soon afloat again. The fight had now lasted for a long time, and just before noon, when within ten yards of the Merrimac, one of her shells struck the pilot-house, just over the lookout hole or slit. Worden had just withdrawn his face, which had been pressed against it. If he had been touching it he would probably have been killed. As it was, he was stunned, and blinded by the explosion, and bears the indelible marks of powder blast in his face to this day.

The concussion partly lifted the top of the pilot-house, and the helm was put a starboard, and the Monitor sheered off. Greene was sent for, from the turret, to take the command, but just at that time it became evident that the Merrimac had had enough of it; and, after a few more shots on each side she withdrew, and slowly and sullenly went up to an anchorage above Craney Island. Greene did not follow her very far, and was considered to have acted with good judgment; it not being necessary to enter into the reasons for his action here. He returned, and anchored near the Minnesota, where he remained until that vessel was extricated from her unpleasant predicament, on the following night.

It is probable that the Monitor would, in firing at such close quarters, have completely broken up the Merrimac’s armor plates, if a knowledge had existed of the endurance of the Dahlgren gun. The fear of bursting the 11-inch guns, in the small turret, caused the use of the service charge of fifteen pounds of powder. After that time thirty pounds were often used. Then we must remember that the crew had only been exercised at the guns a few times, and that the gun and turret gear were rusty, from having been kept wet during her late passage from New York.

The Monitor was 124 feet long, and 34 feet wide in the hull. The armor raft was 174 feet long, and 41 feet wide. Her stern overhung 34 feet, and her bow 15 feet. Her side armor was of five one-inch plates, backed by twenty-seven inches of oak. Her deck armor consisted of two half-inch plates, over seven inches of plank. The turret was twenty feet in inside diameter, covered with eight one-inch plates, and was nine feet high. The top of the turret was of railroad bars, with holes for ventilation. The pilot-house was built of bars eight inches square, and built up log-house fashion, with the corners notched. She was very primitive in all her arrangements, compared with the monitors Ericsson afterwards produced.

She carried two 11-inch guns, which threw spherical cast-iron shot, weighing 168 pounds. The charge of powder has been mentioned.

In this engagement she was struck twenty-one times; eight times on the side armor; twice on the pilot-house; seven times on the turret, and four times on deck.

The Merrimac carried ten heavy guns; sixty-eight-pounders, rifled. One of these was broken by a shot from the Cumberland, which shot entered her casemate, and killed seven men. Captain Buchanan was wounded on the first day, by a musket-ball, it is said; and the Merrimac was commanded, in her fight with the Monitor, by Lieutenant Catesby Jones, formerly of the United States Navy, as were, indeed, all her other officers. On the second day the Monitor injured many of her plates, and crushed in some of her casemate timbers.

From the day she retired before the Monitor to the 11th of May, when she was blown up by her own people, the formidable Merrimac never did anything more of note. There was, indeed, a plan concocted to capture the Monitor, as she lay on guard, in the Roads, by engaging her with the Merrimac, while men from two small steamers boarded her, and wedged her turret. Then the crew were to be driven out, by throwing balls of stinking combustibles below, by her ventilators. But nothing came of it.

The end of the Monitor must be told. After doing good service up the James River, during the eventful summer of 1862, she was sent down to Beaufort, South Carolina. On the night of the 30th of December, when off Hatteras, she suddenly foundered. About half of her officers and crew went down in her; the rest making their escape to her escort. The cause of her sinking was never known; but it was conjectured that the oak timbers which were fitted on the top rim of her iron hull had shrunk under the hot summer sun of the James River, and when she once more got into a rough sea, admitted the water in torrents.

Before we quit the subject of the Merrimac and Monitor, it may be of interest to mention that just about the time the Merrimac retired from the contest the head of Magruder’s column appeared on the river bank. But the camp at Newport News was too strong and well entrenched to be attacked without aid from the water. Magruder was just a day too late, and had to march back again. His troops were the same which, a few weeks later, were opposed to McClellan, in the earthworks at Yorktown.